Mistaken Mistletoe
by TimeToWriteIsHistory
Summary: George Weasley does not think his pranks through. Therefore, it is entirely his fault that he has an irate bushy-haired bookworm threatening to set an angry flock of birds after him.


**I don't think I did very well on this, but it was a challenge. I was told to write a story about Hermione and George, and this is what came out of it. It's only rated T because one or two things are mentioned that are more adult ideas and this is not a romance story, but one of friendship. Tell me what you think?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is found in the world of wizards as dictated by J. K. Rowling.**

"Idiot. Moron. Prat. Stupid."

The insults poured from Hermione Granger's mouth as she walked five steps, turned around, and walked five steps. This became a cycle, the insults changing from well-enunciated words to mere mumbles and the punctuated steps to fluid pacing.

"It isn't that horrible to be stuck in here with me, is it?" the tall red-haired teenager sitting on the floor interjected with a joking tone. He threw in a wink and charming grin for good measure.

"Don't talk to me, George Weasley. If you want to do any good, get us out of here."

George lost his prankster attitude and seemed to deflate. "We've been through this. You can't de-activate it from the inside. And since we're in the middle of an abandoned corridor, it's highly unlikely that Fred will be coming to rescue us any time soon. The sooner you accept that we just have to play along, the sooner you'll get out."

Hermione seemed to become even more infuriated. "You know, I learned a nifty little charm the other day. It conjures a flock of birds to attack an enemy." She stopped pacing and fixed George with a beady stare. "It could come in handy at the moment."

George put his hands up as if to protect himself, and his eyes grew wide with alarm. His next words were shaky with caution. "No need to be hasty, Hermione. It's not like I planned for this to happen."

"But it's your fault!" She stepped up to him and pushed her finger into his chest. "You invented it!"

At this declaration she pointed her wand at the small bit of mistletoe above them and shot sparks at it. Instead of damaging the plant, it absorbed the energy and glowed for a few seconds before returning to normal.

"Augh! What in the world ever possessed you to make charmed mistletoe?"

The distraught girl and the slightly on-edge prankster had been stuck under the mistletoe for forty minutes already. He had been standing in the middle of the hallway, levitating the sprig to the ceiling when she rounded the corner. He called out to her, to warn her to leave the corridor, but she didn't hear in time. She looked up and suddenly was flung twenty feet into George, knocking him down. She got up and immediately started lecturing him, ordering him to tell her what he was up to now and being quite loud about how much trouble he and his twin caused her. She started to move slightly away when she noticed she couldn't move more than five paces away from him. Hermione, being a very intelligent person, only had to look up to realize what was going on. And that was when the insults and pacing started.

"Well…we thought it would be a laugh, really. I mean, think about who could get stuck under these –"

"Yes, George," Hermione said, fuming, "Think about who could get stuck under these."

"I guess it isn't much of a laugh now."

"No, George, it really isn't, and honestly, I don't understand how you could ever think it would be. What if Collin and Dennis Creevy had come walking down this corridor? Padma and Parvarti? George, that would be very, very far from funny for them."

"Do you have a weird preoccupation with incest?" George asked her with a cocked eyebrow.

Hermione answered him with the most disgusted look she could muster. "No, I am trying to make a point!"

"Okay, fine. When we get out of this, I will convince Fred to destroy the rest of our stock."

Hermione just stared at him.

"Promise!"

She sighed. "Fine, but if I hear about something like this happening again, I will send a flock of angry birds after you."

George gulped. "Point made. Now can you please calm down and cooperate so we can go to dinner? I'm starving."

"Is that all you think about? Food?"

"No! I think about pranks, and how to annoy Snape, and the best way to get Katie to notice me, and –"

The more he talked, the more disgusted she looked, and soon she got so fed up that she grabbed the front of his robes and put her lips to his. He was surprised, but as seconds passed, he became more and more amused. He could feel how tightly her lips were pursed, that her eyes were absolutely squeezed shut, and her foot and leg bouncing, anxious for it to be over. The moment the wave of heat that signaled the end of the charm washed over them, she pushed herself away from him and wiped her mouth, gagging.

"Never, ever, make me do that again, George Weasley, or I will find a way to personally murder you."

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad," George said, his eyes twinkling.

"Yes, it was. It was horrible." She finished wiping her mouth and stood up, holding a hand out to him. "But just to clear any confusion, we are friends, right?" She continued to mutter, "If you could even call us that."

George laughed and threw his arm around her shoulder, ignoring the outstretched hand. He turned her towards the Great Hall and steered her to dinner, disregarding her annoyed glare.

"Friends to the end, Hermione."


End file.
